Stone skipping on The Nocturne Shore
by Guyver Prime
Summary: How does a Time Lord spend what might be a Tuesday? She goes stone skipping.


Hello! Totally random little thing that popped into my head. Just gonna send it out into the world, like sending a stone out into the sea...

**Stone skipping on The Nocturne Shore**

It could have been morning, or it could have been night.

One of the confusions of space is that it could be any when. For all the Doctor knew, as she sat in the doorway of her TARDIS, legs dangling out into the nothingness of it all, it might possibly be Tuesday.

'What lunch goes well with a Tuesday?' she fleetingly wondered, before continuing with the vitally important task at hand.

She brushed some errant strands of her blonde hair from her face and steeled her gaze. Steadying her resolve, she picked up a stone from beside her and admired it for a moment.

"Be a good one, won't you?" she smiled, hopefully.

The Doctor looked out at the rippling serenity of the Nocturne Shore and she was ready.

The Nocturne Shore got its name due to there being not a single light for hundreds of galaxies, not even the twinkling of a single star. A giant expanse of nocturnal constant, with the only immediately noticeable thing was how everything faintly shimmered like the surface of water.

She aligned her aim, drew her arm back and bought it swiftly forward. With a flick the wrist, the stone was let loose into the universe.

But the stone didn't float restlessly, as most things are content to do in space. It simply continued on its intended path.

The stone skipped and skimmed across the void. Each little moment, when the stone would descend, there was a little burst of light, like a crackling of electricity that sparked every colour imaginable before fizzing into a small plume of pearlescent smoke.

To make it all the more spectacular, with each gentle wisp of smoke, there was the sound of a gentle "shh".

Spark after spark, a symphony of colours as the stone continued on its way.

'Shh… Shh… Shh… Shh…' like waves crashing on a shore.

With each passing step onwards, the stone began to get smaller. The bursts of light took a gentle piece of it at a time, until there was nothing left but the fading memories visible in the trail of colours as the hues dimmed.

"11 little hops into the night, my now lost friend.11. I have a soft spot for 11." The Doctor

"_Come along, Pond"_

That was the last of the stones. In actual fact, it had been stone number fifteen hundred and seventy-two. Well, seventy-one and a half. The Doctor hadn't been able to decide whether one of them had been a stone or a rock. Not that the difference mattered to the grand skimming undertaking.

It really had been an impossibly quiet possibly Tuesday so far.

Nobody really knew why the Nocturne Shore was the only place in the universe that sound could be heard in space. Well, generally speaking if you went out into space to hear something, you would be deemed as being quite bonkers. Much like the Singing Towers of Darilllium, the answer as to why the Shores made the sounds they did was unknown.

Luckily anybody with a half decent artificial atmospheric bubble was able to hear quite nicely. Which was pretty much everyone.

The Doctor had lived long enough to witness the wonderment of all the beings that had come to the Shore, to marvel at the sight and sounds. Then, like all the great tourist attractions across everything that was and will be, the population of the universe entire got bored and went looking for something new to get bored with.

Which is why the only thing coasting on the Shore, was the bluest of blue police box.

Looking behind her into the TARDIS, the only evidence that not too long ago it was filled with the contents of a Cardiff quarry was the fine powder you get when you have a ridiculously large amount of stones in a time machine.

That was going be the entirety of a possibly Tuesday afternoon spent cleaning.

"Sorry, love", the Doctor spoke sheepishly.

The TARDIS hummed, with a knowing 'I'm sure it will happen again'.

"Most likely…" the Doctor mused, before hopefully asking, "may I?"

The TARDIS made a soft clanging as a small object was ejected out of the centre console, flying through the air towards the Doctor, who caught it deftly.

She smiled and looked lovingly at the biscuit.

"Brilliant."

She pulled the biscuit in half and happily ate the half that retained the creamy delightfulness. Sighing contently, she sent the other half out into the shore.

The biscuit hovered.

It just hung there, floating gently. No sparks, no colour and no rainbow of smoke.

The Doctor rose to her feet, a look of excited curiousness on her face.

"So then, what does a lifeless millennia old expanse that is a total mystery to any and all civilisations and of course yours truly, have against custard creams?"


End file.
